Mine
by shortbuschick1462
Summary: A short story depicting Sam and Andy after work.


**Author's Note: My first Rookie Blue fic. I am a firm believer in McSwarek…and this has TONS of fluff. (I actually dreamt about half of this, and I just thought it fit with this particular episode. I wish it would actually happen in the show. ^-^) Set a little bit before, during, and after their last scene together in 3x03, "A Good Shot."**

**Disclaimer: As much as it sucks, I do not own Rookie Blue.**

Andy McNally closed her locker door gently, not particularly wanting to create an obnoxious, metallic clang. The other women of 15 Division were already venting a day's worth of stress into slamming the things, creating a horrible symphony of noise.

She took her small padlock between the fingertips of her right hand and fiddled with it whilst she thought about how close of a call Dov Epstein had had today. Poor guy…having to go a whole day believing that he might become a murderer in the eyes of his peers. Having to deal with the people that _already _saw him that way. But the worst feeling, Andy knew, was the feeling you get when it's your first time killing someone. The crushing guilt, the self-loathing…there were times when you didn't even want to look into the mirror.

_Well, I guess I should go find Sam…home sounds really good right now, and he is the means of transportation_, Andy thought. She wasn't looking forward to wandering around the station looking for her partner, but her tiredness was winning out.

McNally didn't have to wait long; Sam Swarek was standing behind the wall outside the women's locker room. "Hey," she greeted him quietly.

He raised his eyebrows in a question. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. So, I guess you were right."

Sam glanced over at her, looking confused. "About what?"

"About reality." Andy took a brief second to recount the day _again_. "Dov slammed right into it today." Sam said nothing, so she plowed on ahead. "You were right! I mean, if you expect the worst out of everybody, you'll never be disappointed," she finished sourly.

"Are you kidding me? You believed in him. If Dov's cleared, then it's because of you guys," Sam reassured her.

Andy allowed a miniscule smile to come onto her face. "Yeah," she conceded quietly, catching Sam's gaze in a glance and then looking back down the hallway.

"Comin' over?" he asked, unabashed.

McNally's small smile became a smirk. "That's optimism," she scoffed.

"Nah…it's experience," Sam countered. Andy laughed lightly as they wound their hands together. It took her a moment to realize that they were still in the barn, and Sam was holding her hand. In front of other cops. And not caring.

How…intriguing.

"All of the fine men and women of 15 are watching the big, bad Sam Swarek hold my hand. Now they see how domestic you really are, Officer," Andy teased him as they threw their duffels into the bed of his truck. Surprising her, Sam tensed and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her to his chest and locking his arms around her to keep her there.

"Domestic or _not_," he growled into her ear, "I can still tickle you within an inch of your life." It was a threat, and a dangerous one, Andy knew. She'd called his bluff the last time he'd warned her.

Bad move.

"Okay, okay! Let go," she giggled, squirming to get out of his arms. Swarek chuckled and dropped a kiss onto her neck, then released her. Andy scampered around to the passenger's side and hopped in, cautiously straining as far away from him as the cab would allow. Sometimes, he didn't warn; he just _did_.

When they arrived at his house, Sam grabbed both of their bags, unlocked the door, and then held it open for Andy, chivalrous and sweet as always. "My lady."

"Thank you, kind sir." And then McNally tried to resist the temptation, she really did. But even with the promise of impending punishment, she just couldn't help herself. She did, however, wait until she was a sizable distance away from him before making the crack. What fun was it if you didn't have a head start? "Kind, _domestic_ sir," she giggled quietly.

"You little…" Sam trailed off. Andy had already darted off down the hallway before she heard the duffel bags and the keys hit the wood floor, followed by Sam's heavy footfalls as he began to chase her around the house.

It took him a good five minutes, but he finally caught her when a failed attempt to circumvent the coffee table tripped her up. Sam swung a squealing McNally over his shoulder, dumped her onto the couch, and proceeded to make her very sorry. Andy's screaming laughter quickly filled the air, making Sam grin and chuckle along with her. She was just so _cute_.

"SAM!" she yelled, her tone begging for the mercy that she was not likely to get. She twisted and squirmed under his hands, but they always found holes in her defenses. Swarek's only reaction to her plea was raising his eyebrows. He didn't have to tell her what she needed to say in order for him to stop.

Andy managed to gasp in a ragged breath while Sam was still digging his fingers into her ribs. "I'm sorry! You're not domestic!" she screeched. The horrible torture ceased and McNally doubled over the side of the couch, her lungs greedily sucking in the oxygen that had been lost during her diaphragm's spasms. Once she was fairly recovered, she felt lips on her neck. Fire and electricity immediately zapped her skin, making her blood heat up.

"If I'm not domestic, then what am I?" Sam asked seductively, his mouth against the back of her neck. Andy turned over so that she was beneath him, looking up into his deep brown eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, took the collar of his t-shirt between her fingertips, and gently slipped it off. After it was discarded onto the floor beside the sofa, McNally ran her hands up the muscular planes of his smooth back and combed her fingers through his soft, midnight black hair. She guided his head down to hers and pressed her lips against his in a searing kiss. Finally, Andy pulled back to answer him.

"You're mine," she whispered.


End file.
